


strawberry vodka and tango for three

by tantalusqualen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Meet-Cute, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Modern Westeros, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 07:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16530413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tantalusqualen/pseuds/tantalusqualen
Summary: Lya would rather be anywhere but this dingy club watching sweaty people try to get it on - that is, until she meets the prettiest lady with the sweetest lips.





	strawberry vodka and tango for three

The beat pounded on Lya’s easily irritated temple as she sipped her pina colada, trying valiantly to ignore the horny middle aged people and vaguely underaged looking kids performing the modern mating ritual - dry humping on the club's dance floor to the rhythm of music; preferably The Bad Touch, a song older than Lya.

Ah, urban living and the self-domestication of humanity. Happy thoughts.

 

Though, she thinks looking over to Ned who's desperately trying to keep Robert from catching a venereal disease, probably better ones than some others are probably having right now.

Someone slides down next to Lya and she sees from her peripheral that a glass is clinked against her own, before a gentle voice whispers, “Ten bucks that they're exes.”

“The guy and the girl?” Lya asks, eyeing the neurotic chick Bobby B is feeling up. “Nah.”

 

The voice laughs, making a high and breathy sound, and Lya turns to look at her companion - “Oh heavens no! The two boys.”

Next to Lya sits a skinny Dornish vision in a little black thing, versatile and pretty with the nicest - in all the meanings - eyes she has ever seen. She sticks her hand out to Lya. Her fingernails are short and clear lacquered. “Elia,” she says.

 

“Lyanna,” Lya answers before her mind catches up, and when it does she blurts out, “Bobert is straight!”

Elia smiles with a slight crease between her brows. “Bobert?” Her mouth and voice tremble with her held back laugh and Lya tries to explain, really she does, but something about how pretty Elia is fries her brain just a bit. She looks so sweet and delicate; everything from the slope of her thin nose to the high ponytail holding her voluminous hair brings Lya back to her horrible, utterly embarrassing one true childhood crush - Jasmine from Aladdin.

 

She thinks the woman looks a bit insecure under her scrutiny, though she hides it well. It almost looks like she's preening but Lya spends a lot of her time people watching - in detention, at tournaments waiting for her turn, when dragged along to places like these - and can practically see the nervous energy rolling off Elia.

Lya puts her hand over Elia’s, immediately deciding she likes how her hand fits onto Elia’s smaller one, giving the other woman a smile she hopes is reassuring. (Just because she can read people doesn't mean people can read her…)

 

“Do you know how to tango?” Elia asks out of nowhere and Lya shakes her head quickly.

 

Elia leans in close. “Would you like to learn?” Her breath is caught on Lya’s face. It smells sweet, no spice at all, just clean and sugar and the sharp tang of strawberry flavoured vodka - which is a plague upon teens everywhere but in that moment Lya can't help but find it utterly perfect. Her nod is harsh and quick and eager, unsure if its a euphemism or a serious question.

 

“I only tango with three -” Elia warned, her gaze moving from Lya to somewhere behind her, farther away than  Lya would like for Elia’s eyes to be from her. She turns, her eyes following Elia’s over and through the faceless, mindless, bothersome crowd, until finally settling on the most beautiful man Lya had ever seen.

That's not an exaggeration either, unlike Elia, who Lya could grudgingly admit wasn't necessarily ‘conventionally’ hot, this guy was just pretty - handsome, uncommonly comely, _whatever_ - and with a look at his long silver hair, his aristocrat features, Lya gasped. He looked up, Valyrian purples meeting her stark grey.

“- Though it is a fair bit harder.”

 

He smiled at her and raised his glass a little, the red swishing out of his glass down his upper arm.

Lya smiled back and finds out, after Elia kisses her sharply with all the softness of Dornish wine, that his name is Rhaegar.

  


She figures out a week later that she's managed to fall in love with a married couple, which - in her completely unbiased opinion - is still less weird than Ned’s nigh crippling crush on Big Bobby B.

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks this is the first fanfic - or rather ficlet - that i've uploaded anywhere ever so. be gentle. thanks.
> 
> also i couldn't tag implied ned/robert which is obviously homophobia and misandry (duh) nor could i come up with a snazzy title and summary which is a hate crime against me specifically tbqh.
> 
> anyway i don't want this to be too long and i'm uploading from my phone so uh. lya is supposed to be, like, 19 here and elia and rhaegar can be Any Age You Like because i didn't think that far. comments and other forms of feedback are much appreciated! ❤️


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